


SEVEN DEVILS

by Jackieshalom02



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Developing Relationship, Drinking to Cope, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fíli Feels, Fíli Is a Sweetheart, Magic, Minor Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Minor Kíli/Tauriel, Not Canon Compliant, Overprotective Thorin, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Fíli, Protective Kíli, Protectiveness, Reader-Interactive, Scars, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The Hobbit Compliant, Trauma, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackieshalom02/pseuds/Jackieshalom02
Summary: "How can emptiness feel so heavy."The Hobbit Trilogy(The unexpected Journey- Battle of the five armies)Fíli Durin x Fem!ocMinor! Bilbo Baggins x the same Fem!ocSlow burn
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Original Female Character(s), Fíli (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s), Thorin's Company/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> INTRODUCTION.

**Magic was a** **_ dangerous _ ** **thing.**

**It could be as gentle and as loving as a mother's embrace, the type that fills you with comfort and warms the very bones that lie beneath your fragile skin. However, magic could also be cold and unjust, that could steal your breath from your lungs with a snap of its cruel fingers before giving it back in the same moment, taunting you over and over until you burst from the seams.**

**Nymeria knew from a young age that she had to be careful with the magic that curled underneath her veins, that felt like aching, that felt like** **_ fire _ ** **. She had to be careful with the sharp fangs that nicked the bottom of her lip, bathing them in a permanent glow of red, she had to be careful with the dark, raven like wings that trailed behind her, powerful and strong and uncoordinated, just like the small legs that stumbled along before them. She had to be careful with everything about herself, lest she become something truly monstrous, just as she feared she could be.**

**No one had ever taught her these things however, these were such things she learned by herself, learned by watching the creatures around her, watching with keen and bright eyes as mothering animals taught their young how to survive through the haunting wilderness, and it was only when she grew older, taller and** **_wiser_ ** **did she wonder why she was alone. Why she knew she had to hide in the welcoming shadows of the moors, away from prying eyes and greedy hands, but not having a remembrance of who had told her** **_too_ ** **.**

**She'd lived her life walking from place to place, always under the cover from the forest above her, protecting the girl from what would only be a cruel fate** **_indeed._ ** **There was always a smile upon her face and a gentleness in the healing touch of her gifted fingers. All of the inhabitants of the forest knew the girl, each generation of critter knowing that if they were ever in some great peril, they'd have to find the stranger with shadowed wings, that stretched high in the sky above them, beautiful and shining and** **_ rare _ ** **, and they knew that she'd protect them, that she'd save** **_them_ ** **.**

**It was her own kindness that had been her downfall, healing something that looked so** **_ similar _ ** **to her and yet not, giving and giving and** **_giving_ ** **until there was nothing left inside that made her magic become something darker, something so much** **_colder_ ** **. She had never known the selfishness of others, beings that could look like her but be nothing of the sort, with nothing in their heart but greed, she allowed her trust...her** **_love_ ** **to fall into the wrong, dirty hands of someone foul, who'd left her alone, bleeding and** **_ screaming _ ** **into the heavens above, is this what she called salvation? Two gaping holes where beauty once resided, torn away to be sold for a pretty penny.**

**There is a saying that goes around middle-earth, whispered by many and believed by them too, and that is that the loveliest Angel's safe up in the heavens above could make the** **_cruelest demons_ ** **. And young, darling Nymeria was once so kind and beautiful, before she was dragged to the horrors** **_below_ ** **. Because nothing in this age is to ever end gently, poetically...it just ends. All of that blood spilled that night was never once beautiful, it was just** **_ red _ ** **.**

**☆**  
**○**  
**☆**

_** "AND WHAT IS A FAÈ WITHOUT HER WINGS?" ** _

_** "DANGEROUS."  ** _


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Give me one good reason, why I shouldn't kill you."

**Bilbo Baggins enjoyed his peaceful and mundane life, as most hobbits around his age do.** Though yes, perhaps once upon a time he would of liked to find out more about the world outside of the Shire, to do more than read about others and their adventures and wonder what it'd be like to have one, but that curiously, that _desire_ was long since pushed behind him. He was content here, in his home with others like him, content to smoke in his little garden, overlooking the lush greens of the hillside with a calm smile.

And yet, on this particular morning, the Took inside his bloodline screamed for a certain kind of release. A one that told him to get off of his bottom, and go on his own miniature adventure, explore around the outskirts of the Shire and see what he could find. It was the closest he'd ever get to the stories he'd read, and in all honesty, the most he was comfortable with.

So, he'd packed a small snack, bound a book to his side for some light reading and set off, murmuring greetings to his fellow neighbours and hobbits as he walked past them, closing his eyes in bliss as the sun bared down upon him, caressing his face with warm glow and happy to just breath in the summer air, truly the Shire was the best place for a person like him to be.

The birds were singing beautifully, filling the air with their delightful songs, the farmers were farming, the bakers were making and the numerous voices of his fellow inhabitants were taking to each other cheerfully, however, the further he walked away from them all, the quieter it became. Even the sky seemed darker the closer he got to the outside world.

As he walked across a bridge that resided over a small river, he couldn't help but pause as he noticed something...odd lying amongst the dirty and damp soil, half submerged in the waters beside it.

"What on earth is that?" He mumbled to himself, narrowing his eyes and stepping closer, his body brushing the side of the wooden bridge as he leaned over it, standing on the tips of his large toes to get a clearer look at it. He couldn't see much of it, whatever it was, in fact it looked like some-hobbits laundry had flown away and landed onto the bank, however, what he found strange was around the robes, things seemed to be... _decaying_.

A bundle of bushes that's leaves had withered up, turning a dark, inky looking black and curling in on itself grotesquely, the ground underneath the oddity was cracked and splintered ominously, and the most alarming part of all was he could spot two dead birds and a rabbit, lying close to the cluster of _something_ , with no signs of why they had died.

Bilbo nervously licked his lips, his mouth suddenly going dry as he took a final step closer, hands shaking with nerves as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and that's when he saw something he wished he hadn't. There was a foot. A pale and ashen, bloodstained foot under the pile of dark robes, brushing through the clear waters and staining them a dark, glaring red. Oh dear, oh _dear_ _, oh dear._

He took a step forward, and then a step back, then a step to the side, dancing on the tip of his toes and his breath coming out in short pants. That was definitely a person, quite possibly a dead person lying there, concealed in robes, actually, they could _be_ the robes, they may not even be a hobbit. He couldn't see the height from here, but their foot most definitely didn't belong to any hobbit he'd ever seen.

Bilbo took a deep, heaving breath, swallowing his fears and called out a shaky, "Hello? Are you alright down there?" He paused, waiting for a response and not knowing to feel relieved, nervous or terrified when he got nothing of the sort. He settled for a mixture of three as he fiddled with his suspenders that rested on his shoulders. He tried once more, "Do you need any help?"

 _Of course they need help, they're submerged in the river and_ ** _bleeding_** _for hobbit's sake._ He thought to himself angrily, resisting the urge to slap a hand against his forehead in exasperation. He looked around, bracing his hands on the bridge as he looked over and under it, searching for a way to get down there, and finally spotting a unreliable looking ladder at the far end of it, splintered and a few of the steps broken.

"Well, that's just great, perfect even." Bilbo deadpanned, lips pursed in a thin line, looking around desperately once more before sighing, pulling his pants up further and making his way towards it. _They better hope they're dead, or they will be once he was through with them._ The hobbit grabbed hold of the old ladders, shaking them slightly to check their sturdiness only for them to groan and creak loudly.

"Yep, that's not concerning at all." He whispered, as he pulled himself over the bridge with a grunt, and lowered himself on the first step warily.

He didn't actually know why he was talking to himself to much, it's not like he tried to make it a habit, especially with how judgemental hobbits could be, he'd be swallowed alive if they could see him being so...odd. and not just the whole, conversation with himself business, but also risking his safety for a stranger who could be a bigger threat than the ladders he was standing in.

. _..W_ _ait a moment._

He hasn't thought of that, the curly-haired man froze, wide-eyed, wondering if it were all a disgusting trick to get someone with a kind heart down there, only to rob them of all of their valuables the second they touched the ground. Bilbo tried to turn his head, to get another look at the person and see if they were as helpless as he originally thought, only to hear an very loud and splintering **crack**!

"Oh no." Was all he had time to whisper, before the ladder gave out as he was halfway down, causing him to fall through the rest of the steps one by one until he landed in the shallow stream with a yelp, the air being pushed out of his lunges as he gasped for breath for a few moments, winded and his feet no doubt bruised.

Bilbo sat up slowly, his backside and his favourite brown coat drenched from the water, and as he did so his face dropped even further into a disbelieving frown. "You must be kidding me." On the other side of the bridge, just under it actually, there was a natural ramp like hill that he could of used, that he wasn't able to see on top of the structure because apparently he couldn't use his own _stupid_ eyes to see. Too panicked about the potential- oh, right!

He turned around, pulling himself onto his feet, and looking at the body on the bank, just a few feet away from the commotion but they hadn't moved, at all. The hobbit sucked in a breath, looking down and quickly grabbing a large, well, large for him, rock and began to walk towards them slowly, splashing through the water softly.

"I hope you know that if this is a trick, I am armed and very dangerous." He lied through clenched teeth, looking around in a quick circle to make sure no one was hiding in the bushes. He came to a stop, unable too see anything over then the foot and after some hesitation, he grabbed a stick and gently poked it, and then quickly stepping back in preparation.

No movement once more.

Bilbo sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging as he came closer once again, and as softly as possible, pushed them with his foot, and when that warranted no response, he groaned loudly and pushed them again with more force, turning them to face him, finally, only to freeze in complete shock as an ashen, feminine and broken face stared back at him. Hollowed and dark closed eyes, chapped lips and high cheekbones, all bloody and bruised and wounded.

"Oh." He whispered sorrowfully, dropping his stick and rock to the floor as he slowly kneeled down beside her, his hands hovering over her body as he looked down at it. What he could see of the skin that wasn't covered in the dark robe was ripped and gouged especially around her shoulders and clavicle, claw marks that couldn't of been from no animal, as they were to thin and messy and when he look at the girls hand, he was filled with further sadness when he seen the bloodied fingers. Some of her wounds were self-inflicted.

"I'm so sorry." He told her body gently, hoping her last few moments hadn't been in great pain or fear, as he lifted her blood-stained robe to place it over her face and put her at peace, only to let out a sharp cry as she moaned weakly, dark brows furrowing and chest heaving before she still once again.

"You're alive? _You're alive_." Bilbo whispered, a grin quickly forming on his face as a weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders as he looked down at the girl, until he realised that she was alive, for now. The hobbit quickly stood up, frantic swirling his head around for something, anything to help and then catching sight of something wooden, half hidden in the bushes and his eyes lit up.

"Yes, that could work."

A few moments later and he was rolling an old and rickety wheelbarrow up the natural ramp, sweat gathering above his brow and his face flushed pink as he pulled the heavy weight up, eyes going wide when her ashen hand fell out of the corner of the wheelbarrow, which he quickly pushed back inside, nervously licking his lips as he power-walked through the Shire, smiling fakely whenever another hobbit caught his eye, their faces dropping in confusion.

"What do you have there, Bilbo?" A kind but old Mr. Friggs called out as he walked past, stopping him in the middle of the road, blocking his way and causing the younger hobbit to freeze with a grimace, before he turned and gave him a nervous smile, his eyes shifting between the wheelbarrow and his home that was just in view frantically. "Oh, right, yes, just some food for tonight. I've been trying a new diet."

"Oh? Well let's see what you've got then! If it entails that much food I'm already in!" He chuckled, reaching over to untuck the blanket covering it, and Bilbo panicked with a squeak, watching in slow motion as he slapped his hand away viciously, Mr. Friggs pulled it back quickly, eyes as wide as saucers as he looked at his pink hand, and then Bilbo's anxious face, and doing it twice more, as if not believing what had just occurred.

"No, no, no, no! I don't think this diet will work for you at all, now if you'll excuse me." He mumbled, before he threw all reservations behind him and began to run, pushing the wheelbarrow up the path quickly and not caring how strange he looked as he pushed past the frozen hobbits, wincing slightly as he did so. _They were going to be talking about him for weeks now._

He quickly ran into his garden, slamming the gate shut behind him, and after giving one sorrowful look to the wheelbarrow began to push it up the short steps to his home, apologising with every lurch and weak groan that came with it, until he finally opened his door, dragging it behind him and yanking away the girls cloaks, checking to make sure she was still breathing before rushing to his kitchen to get his supplies, bandages, ointments, healing herbs, alcohol, water and, after some hesitation, a needle and thread.

After all, he still didn't know _just_ how bad her wounds in fact, were.

Bilbo jogged back towards her, chest heaving slightly, and pushed the wheelbarrow through his home, stopping just next to his bed, awkwardly fumbling around with the girl as he tried to pull her onto it, grunting and straining with effort before sighing in relief as he finally lifted her on it. Well, lift was a strong word, shoved may be the more accurate statement he thought with a twinge of guilt as he lit a match, lighting all of the lanterns he had into his room and bathing the room in a warm glow.

He took his coat off, folding it over a chair and began to roll up his sleeves, tapping his large feet anxiously. He was **no** healer, and the worst wound he'd ever fixed himself was when he skewered his foot onto some garden pliers. He didn't know where to begin, or if it were appropriate to strip the girl down to check her wounds.

However, he knew the hobbits that lived in the Shire. Most of them would shun the girl away, say she'd bring trouble, refuse to help her because she wasn't a hobbit. In fact, he wasn't quite sure what she was. Her face was ethereal enough to belong to an elf, but she lacked the pointed ears. She could of been human, but once again, Bilbo had never met a human with such pointed teeth. Her height however, certainly pushed hobbit or dwarf out of the occasion.

He sighed through his nose, closing his eyes tightly before opening them determination shining through as he picked up his fabric scissors and used them to cut through the dark robes, breathing a weight left off his chest when she was wearing white blinding over her chest, and once he was done, he pushed the stained clothes to the side.

Dipping a soft rag into bowl of water, he nodded to himself grimly. _Time to get to_ _work_ _._  
__________________________________________________

Four hours.

Four hours it took to clean and dress and sanitize every one of the girls wounds. He'd been able to handle them all, albeit with some shaking hands and a few black spots taunting his vision, as he kept thanking the heavens above that they weren't as deep or as serious as he feared, mumbling to her unconscious body that she was going to be alright, that she'd be as right as rain in no time.

That was, of course, until he'd turned the girl onto her front to check her back for anything he might of missed and had gagged so violently, he'd almost thrown up his breakfast inside a bucket by the end of the bed, eyes bulging out of his head and filling with disgusted tears as he finally found the true cause of her comatose state.

On her back, were two gouged out holes, residing on her shoulder blades, with remnants of...something that looked like it came out of a butcher's shop still hanging out of them, dangling out of the gaping wounds and brushing over the skin of her back tauntingly. It was a good thing he'd brought that needle and thread, and it was some strange miracle that the girl had survived her injuries. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had happened there, or, better yet, what seemed to have been _taken._

Bilbo took a sip of his tea, staring out of the window with his feet in front of the fire, looking over his shoulder every so often to check the girl was still breathing, before turning back to the window, his hands finally slowing from their vicious shaking. He stayed there for a few more hours, just taking it in, thinking how lucky it was to find her and be able to save her, unaware of his fate being set in stone the second he laid his eyes upon her.

He stood up with a sigh, picking up a blanket that was hanging over the back of his old, worn out arm chair and creeped towards his bedroom silently, throwing it over the girl as gently as he could, tucking it in at the edges so she wouldn't get cold, and then walking back over to his chair, slumping down upon it and shifting around to try and get comfortable. When he finally did so, his eyes fluttered shut automatically, his body and mind exhausted from the tiring day as he drifted if into the peacefulness of his own subconscious.

However, he awoke some time later to a heavy weight on his thighs, and something cold pressing against his throat. His brows furrowed, wanting to move but finding himself unable to, and that's when he opened his eyes and yelped to find dark ones staring back at him.

"Where am I?" The girl snarled, upper lip curling into a frightful snarl as she pressed one of his kitchen knives closer to his throat, leaning over him like some sort of vengeful angel, her jaw tensed and teeth grinding together. He gulped audibly, his hands shaking in the air as he tried to speak, sweat dribbling down his forehead. "Y-you're in the Shire."

"How did I get here?"

"I-I found you here, I don't- I have no idea how you got here. I'm sorry can you please just remove the-" he tried gesturing towards the weapon to his throat, but she only pressed it in harder, drawing a nick of blood with her eyes wild and frantic and _terrified_. "-right, or you can just keep it there."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

"Please, I-I saved your life." He begged quietly, looking into her eyes and trying to push himself further into the armchair, his hands still hovering midair, not wanting to touch her and continuing to show his surrender, how could he not see this coming? A stranger covered in wounds waking up in a strange place? How was he to know his actions would have consequences?

"Why?"

"Sorry, what?" Bilbo asked, brows furrowing in confusion, panic clouding his mind as he frantically tried to think of an answer to a question he didn't even understand. The knife pressed closer still, her tall form leaning closer and her hair covering the seat of his armchair, blocking the light and caging him in, surrounding him in nothing but her as she snarled like some sort of rabid animal. "Why did you save me? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing. Y-you don't need a reason to save someone."

And that's when she paused, staring at him with her dark eyes, seemingly looking into his very soul as his heart hammered rhythmically through his chest, faster than a rabbit's, faster than a hummingbirds. She looked at him for a few, long and terrifying moments, and whatever she seen reflecting from his scared eyes, caused her to move away, the knife no longer pressed against him as she climbed off of his lap.

Bilbo heaved a gasp of relief, sucking the air into his lungs with greedy gulps as she slumped against the wall weakly, dragging herself down until she was sitting against it, her let's sprawled out in front of her, still staring at him with something he couldn't decipher.

"Good answer." Was all she said, as if she hadn't almost given the hobbit a heart attack as she watched him warily and he did the same. "Right. Okay, not that _that_ wasn't fun or terrifying, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that again, possibly."

"Apologies, I thought you were...well, it doesn't matter. I suppose I owe you my thanks." She murmured slowly, eyes slightly vacant as she looked around his home, seeing but also somehow not as she finally rolled her head across her shoulders to look at him as he stood up, hands on his hips. "Yes. Well, I suppose you do."

"Thankyou."

"Right. You're welcome." He blinked, licking his lips nervously with a frown still upon his face, he really did not seem to think things threw he realised, as the two stared at each other silently, Bilbo sucked the the inside of his cheek, bobbing his head up and down, swirling around before turning back to look at the girl on the floor. "Would you like some tea? Something to eat?"

"...Yes, please."

"Okay." He strolled off into the kitchen, hands still shaking slightly by his sides as he began to boil the pot, trying to keep himself busy as he thought of what to do next. He couldn't kick her out now could he? Not while she was still healing? But on the other hand she did attack him, though, he supposed he couldn't exactly blame her, waking up in a stranger's house after already being wounded? Yes, he couldn't really blame her for attacking. Though that didn't exactly stop him from being nervous around the girl.

He...supposed he could allow her to stay, at least until she got better and was under no certain threat. Yes, he thought, pouring the hot water onto some tea leaves into one of his favourite cups. Just until she got better would do fine. After all, what would his mother day if he kicked a, well, not _defenceless_ per say, girl out into the dangers of the outside? She'd have him by the ear she would.

Bilbo strolled out of the kitchen, tea and a plate full of goodies in his hands, thankfully finding the girl where he left her and made his way over to her, only to trip with his large feet over the upturned end of the rug, sending him sprawling through the air.

His eyes closed tightly, awaiting the inevitable pain and the sound of crashing glass, but none of that happened, in fact, it almost seemed like he was... **floating**. He opened his eyes slowly, finding his face hovering a few inches away from his mat, and in front if him, his cup seemingly frozen in mid air, a strange golden glow surrounding it. He looked down, and sure enough he was glowing the same.

His body began to pull itself up without his brainc conscious thought until he was standing upright, but the cup full of tea, and the plate full of food continued to stay in the air, only this time they were moving, bobbing along in the air until the were in the girls lap, who instantly began to tuck into them, and Bilbo only just caught sight of her eyes before she'd looked down. If he didn't know any better, he would of said they were glowing too.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but did you-" he pointed behind him, and then in front of him, and then gesturing to himself in confusion, his eyes shifting back and forth as if expecting the strange glow to come back. The girl looked up, tilting her head to the side, her eyes sparkling wickedly but not glowing like he had thought, "Did I...?"

"Huh. Right, well, if you don't mind, I'm going back to sleep on my armchair, you're welcome to my bed, and my food, and of course my tea until you've, well, until you've healed I suppose." Bilbo uttered, scratching the top of his head, suddenly feeling strangely numb as he walked back over to his chair, dropping down on it with a sigh and closing his eyes.

He quickly opened them however, looking over the side of the chair to stare at the girl once more, who, upon feeling his gaze looked up and locked eyes with him. "Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins. My name, that is."

She continued to stare at him, blankly, before she blinked and looked away, out of the window to the side of her for a few moments, staring at her reflection as the stars twinkled up above her. " **Nymeria**." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 years later...

**Under many bright and colourful blankets, hidden under the shadow of darkness with the door closed, shutting** **off** **any connection to the outside world, a weak but loud groan echoed around the** **quiet** **of the room.** Another whimper soon followed as sweat gathered along their hairline, twisting their body through the sheets uncomfortably, flashes of _something_ splattering through the walls of their mind, haunting, terrifying and _painful._

Until, of course, the dream hit its frightful climax, and young Nymeria shot up from her bed, breath coming out in panted heaves and her body **shaking with shameful fear**. And everything _hurt, it hurt, it hurt_ because her magic was blossoming under her skin, under her _veins,_ filling her every crevice with darkness and destruction, tearing her apart from the inside out _._ The very memory of her dream was turning her mortality to dust as she gasped greedy gulps of air, eyes clenching shut in frustration.

She would not permit her sorrow to destroy her, but that didn't mean she couldn't topple over from time to time.

Nymeria sat there for a few dreaded moments, gathering her bearings with a certain degree of desperation as her hand clenched over her rapidly beating heart, feeling it pound through the tough skin of her chest and worrying that it was eventually going to just tire itself out and _stop_ all together, taking in her surroundings with frantic eyes as she tried to ground herself.

A small wooden chair, with her dark hole-ridden cloak hanging over it, swaying the slightest bit due to the draft coming from the open window, the birds singing songs dancing over her ears pleasantly and calming from outside. A small closet, no doubt filled with the clothes she'd managed to snag over the years, or force her friend to knit and another small dresser filled with ointments for her tremendous back pain. Everything in the room was small, and, technically, not even hers.

Nymeria's heart finally slowed to a normal pace, causing the girl to breath out a quiet sigh of relief, taking the stifling blankets from her body and hissing as the cool air assaulted her naked skin as she stood up, going to take a step and, as usual, forgetting how much lighter she now was, stumbling slightly across the carpet before getting her footing with a curse.

Her harsly defined jaw clenched as she straightened, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably as she strolled over to her closet, taking a shirt and some brown pants that rolled up halfway to her calf, mainly due to the fact they were intended for hobbits, and began to pull them on, flinching when she walked past her mirror and caught sight of her grizzled back, the reason for her haunted mind and dreams that plagued her at night.

She managed to get her shirt on over her head, though not without cursing when a button got caught into her hair and instead of trying to gently unwrap it, she chose to simply yank it out impatiently.

And, once she was finally 'decent' she opened the door to her bedroom to start the day, just in time to catch Bilbo Baggins, her very peculiar hobbit, roughly closing the front door that lead to the garden, slamming it shut with wide eyes and holding his body against it sturdily as he fiddled with the locks frantically, unaware of his guest-turned-friend who truly, indeed, had long since overstayed her welcome, watching him in confusion.

"Bilbo, what are you doing?"

"There's a bloody wizard outside! He's talking about adventures and all sorts of dreadful things and he hasn't left yet!"

The hobbit paused, tilting his head to the bottom of the door, eyebrows furrowed, then continued just as quickly, "And I think he's scratching at the door!" He hissed, walking towards her and gesturing backwards wildly, before stepping back, quickly rushing out of the window to try and spot him, only to squeak when he met grey eyes staring back at him, quickly rushing back over to the faè who's face had twisted up into a confused scowl. "What? Move aside."

"Nymeria, you won't hurt him, will you?" Bilbo asked, lips thinning nervously as he moved out of the girls way and stood behind her, watching the door warily.

"That depends on what he wants." She said, checking that the hobbit was alway fron the possible threat, her teeth baring subconsciously as she stepped forward, unlocking the door to stroll out of the home slowly, legs slightly bent into some form of crouch as she scanned the surrounding area with dangerous eyes and a snarling mouth. Nymeria looked to the left, and then to the right, even glancing up at the blue and peaceful sky above her for any sign of the wizard...but, strangely enough, coming up empty.

"...Bilbo?"

"Yes?" The hobbit's quiet voice replied from the safety of his home, she cold hear his feet tapping against the floor anxiously as he awaited the inevitable order. "Come out here for a moment."

"Is he still there?"

" _Just come here_." Nymeria hissed, patience waning thin just as Bilbo stumbled out of the doorway, hands clenched into fists and eyes slightly narrowed, only to freeze in place when he noticed just how alone the taller woman was. He paused, eyes flickering from side to side as he took it in, his garden, while still immaculate, wasn't occupied by the strange wizard, the outside of his gate still looking un-used and abandoned, like the man had never been there in the first place.

"Huh? He was right there- I swear it he- what?" Bilbo stepped forward, fully out of the home as he looked around himself for clues, cupping the back of his head, curls brushing over his fingers as he tried to make sense of it all, Gandalf had most definitely been standing there, hadn't he? Yes, yes, of course he had, his imagination wasn't _that_ interesting.

"Perhaps you've been going too heavy on the ale." Nymeria deadpanned, leaning her shoulder against the door frame and watching with dark eyes as the hobbit moved around in a circle bewilderedly, quite like a dog chasing his tail she thought with some stale amusement.

"Right, yes, very funny. I'm telling you, he was standing right there." He gestured off to the side, just over his small gate, jogging forwards to look off down the road and then back up for any sign of the strange wizard, somewhat aware of how strange he looked doing it.

"Maybe he disappeared?"

"If you aren't going to take this seriously you might as well go back inside!"

"Oh come on Bilbo, you know I'm only pulling your leg." Nymeria chuckled and took another step outside, feeling the light winds curling over her flushed cheeks, stroking through her stands of hair gently, comfortingly, however, a familar sharp and grotesque pain shot up through her back, circling over her shoulders and crippling her as her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the floor with a cry.

Bilbo instantly spun on his feet, thinking for a moment that the wizard had dropped from a tree or something of the sort for a suprise attack, only for his eyes to go wide before they narrowed, quickly hobbling along over to the girl to help her stand, cupping her elbows softly and grunting with the weight as he figured out what had happened.

"You forgot to take your medicine again now, didn't you?" He scolded, feeling as though he'd had this conversation so many times before and wondering when she was actually going to start listening, ignoring her childish huff and roll of her eyes as she limped along back to the home, leaning her weight onto the hobbit as she did so.

"Slipped my mind."

He pushed her over to his favourite arm chair, the one that had word down over the years to the point it cradled your back at bottom pleasantly and slumped her down upon it, muttering things under his breath as he quickly jogged his large feet into the girls room, tutting with his hands resting on his hips when he noticed the messy state it had been left in before lunging towards a her cabinet and rummaging through it until his fingers clasped around what he was looking for, rushing back out with the medicine in hand.

It was simply a mashed up lilac coloured flower in a small vial, the type that was usually hidden very far into the overgrowth on the outskirts of the shire, pressed under large prickly thorn bushes, so intimidating that most just left the area alone completely, lest they be assaulted by the plant, and yet, if they pushed through the sharp pricks and thistles, you'd find the metaphorical diamond in the rough if you will.

It had been Nymeria that told him of its healing properties, regularly chomping on the flower as if it were delicious and delectable cake, and, of course, he hadn't believed her. His mother hadn't raised him to be a fool, after all. However, he'd caught a vicious cold many years ago, one that left him with such a headache that he'd been bed ridden for days, and Nymeria, finally grown tired of his whining had brought him a cup of tea with the crushed up petals of the strange flower, and almost instantly, his head had cleared.

It was now a regular house hold appliance, something they used every day for something as little as bumps and bruises, but Bilbo was filled with a certain kind of despair at the fact that there was only one vial left, and, if he recalled correctly, it was his turn to go and get more. Which, usually he wouldn't mind, if it were for the fact the thorned vines the plant grew off usually left his hands bleeding and _raw._ Sometimes he truly did envy Nymeria's tough skin, it was almost impossible to pierce.

"Here you are." Bilbo called around the corner, his face shifting into a frown at her pained look as she tried to keep still, every movement striking the muscles of her back with sharp and grotesque pain that rendered her speechless. The hobbit held the small vial to her lips, wincing when it was snatched away and gulped down in a hurry, his friend really did have all the manners of a wild animal.

 _Completely_ feral.

"It's like it's getting worse." Nymeria hissed in frustration, body becoming numb as the flower worked its magic, leaning back against the chair with a huff, dark eyes glistening.

"I _told_ you we should go to a healer. Perhaps even the elves? There is only so much I could do." Bilbo snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and not feeling pity for the girl in front of him in the slightest. It was her own fault, he'd been begging her for _years_ to get her back looked at properly. He'd never known what actually happened to her, never knew what was taken, but what his did know was while she'd slowly recovered, there was one thing that never had. The wounds on her back had scabbed over, yes, but they had never truly healed.

" **No**. I don't want any other being, elf, hobbit, human or _dwarf_ to see me like this. Ever." Nymeria said in an undertone filled with warning and threat, a type that made sure you listened to her, whether you wanted to or not, but not aimed at the hobbit in front of her, never at him, who sighed in reply. And she called _him_ stubborn.

"Right. Fine. Keep on suffering then. What do I know?" He muttered under his breath, strolling away to go over to the rack leaning on the wall, finding his favourite long brown coat and pulling it away with a grunt, idly aware of Nymeria watching him with curious eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Well that was our last vial. And if you don't want a repeat of just now, I'm going to have to go get some more, aren't I?" He continued to grumble and curse under his breath, shoving his arm into the stubborn coat and pulled it in, lips thinned and brows furrowed as he did so, showing how much he _didn't_ want to do the task at hand. Nymeria rolled her eyes and stood up carefully, but upon feeling no resistance, straightened her back.

"Oh stop your mutterings, I'll go."

"You will?" Bilbo instantly snapped his head up to look at her as she walked past him, grabbing her black cloak from the bedroom and throwing it over her shoulders.

"Well I'll most certainly get it done faster, won't I? Plus with the morning you've had, I think it'd be safer for you to stay at home. Who knows what you might see next. A dragon perhaps? Or maybe even a troll or two?" She teased good-naturedly, face twisting into an rare, amused smile that truly lit up her usual monotone face as she looked down at him, chuckling at his deadpan look as he took his coat off.

"Right yes, really funny." The hobbit replied, huffing under his breath as he threw the offending fabric over a rack, already moving towards the kitchen to make a start on their dinner, because _lord_ _knows_ that Nymeria sure wouldn't, he _knew_ that the girl used to eat _raw_ dead animals when she lived in her secluded moors, or at least that's what she'd alluded too. How she didn't catch some sort of disease, he'd never understand, nor did he want too.

"Oh don't be so sour, Bilbo. You know I'm only joking." She called over to him, strolling towards the door once more that had been left open in their wake to get her comfortable as quickly as possible, and smirking idly as she watched the smaller being set the kettle on with a grumpy grunt, shaking his hands towards her in a 'shooing' motion without sparing her a glance.

"Yes, _yes_. Go on, if you're late I'm going to eat your share of the dinner."

"You wouldn't dare."   
_________________________________________________

The sky was dark by the time Nymeria found the elusive bushes, hidden by the cover of night. The stars twinkling by overhead, safe in the heavens above and bearing down onto the girl with their ethereal glow as she breathed in the night air, a reminiscent glint in her eyes, remembering times when she'd be up so high with the gentle winds brushing through her hair, over her skin and through her wings, that she was sure she'd be able to touch said stars.

But those were just dreams now, and her reality was right here with the faè getting onto her knees carefully, her sharp eyes making out the violet orchids swarmed at the bottom, safe from view and slowly slipped her hand in, not seeing the point in wasting her magic on such fruitful endeavors when she _knew_ her skin would heal over the moment she'd released it.

The thorns nipped at her skin, tough and _biting_ as she pushed past them and wrapped her cold fingers around the plant, quickly yanking it up and pulling her hand back, hissing under her breath as the sharp sting before repeating the process over and over again, until she'd finally collected enough, though, she had noticed a few were speckled with blood, so she supposed those ones would most definitely be for her. Bilbo wouldn't even allow the bloodied petals near him, nevermind swallow them.

However, she didn't leave just yet, in fact Nymeria continued to kneel down on the damp grass with a gentle sigh as the winds brushed through her hair affectionately, welcomingly as she allowed a small smile to slip over her features, enjoying the simple moments of peace and tranquility of the mind that she found so rare and hard to find, especially lately, her whole body in turmoil and magic brimming with a certain kind of chaos that _**terrified**_ her.

But eventually, all good things come to an end, as she noticed how late it was truly getting and how worried her little hobbit friend would be, and eventually stood up, brushing the dirt away from her pants and her cloak, with her small basket full of violet orchids resting on the crook of her elbow, her hands covered in rough cuts that had already begun to scab over and heal until her skin looked like it hasn't been brushed with the thorns cruel touch at all, not even a scar left behind.

Nymeria glanced down at them for a moment, a frown marring her features before she turned and began her trek back, feeling silly that she was jealous of the way she'd seemingly heal everywhere else _but_ the place she needed the most.

However, the closer she got back to her temporary home at Bag End, the more uneasy, restless and _anxious_ she felt for reasons she couldn't explain because there simply wasn't a reason for her to be experiencing them. Until, it suddenly dawned on her that it wasn't her own emotions that she was feeling...but Bilbos. And the moment she realized, Nymeria hit the ground running, practically becoming a large and dark blur to wandering eyes as she sped through the Shire.

She reached Bag End in record time, taking in that the house didn't seem to be under any attack, the warm glow from the window telling her that Bilbo was most definitely home and probably enjoying her share of the dinner as her chest heaved with quick breaths, her heart slowing down from where it pounded inside her chest as she calmed herself down, remembering just _where_ she was and _who_ she was with.

What trouble could the hobbit truly get into? Especially on his own.

She sighed under her breath as she relaxed her body from its snarling and crouched position, knowing her dramatics had been for nothing except her own paranoia and descended up the steps of the home, only to pause before her fingers could touch the door handle, her face dropping and then twisting in confusion.

Nymeria tilted her head to the side, turning so her slightly pointed ear was pressed up against the cold wood of the door where...singing seemed to be coming from?...Yes, that was definitely singing.

The faè pulled back from the door sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before she slowly because to sleuth off around to the back of the hill-like home, where her secret window that lead to her room lay, still open from where she left it that morning and quietly slipped inside, dropping her basket on top of her bed and listening to the _numerous_ voices filling the usual silence of the home. Just _what_ was going on out there?

Around her hands, a dark red angry glow surrounded her fingers, as she stalked out of her room, her dark eyes flickering from place to place to try and make sense of it all as the song continued, singing about cutlery and bowls and food and such. However, it was when she walked around the corner, still unseen, did her heart plunge down to her stomach, face paling as her mind flashed back to horrific memories of pain and _devastating_ loss.

 ** _Dwarves_** _._ Moving around as if they owned the place, infesting their home as they sang away merrily, dancing around, throwing things and just strutting from room to room with no care, ignoring the small hobbit who kept snapping at them to put his things down, unaware of the dark eyes watching them with traumatic disgust as the song started to near its climax.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates- LOOK OUT!"

A plate slipped out of one of the dwarves hands, one of the younger looking ones with a bowl-cut like hair and shy eyes, Ori, Bilbo idly remembered Gandalf refer to him as such, not that he had much time to dwell on _who_ threw the plate as it _soared_ towards his head. The hobbit didn't have time to move, or to think really, and instead clenched his eyes shut with a yelp, awaiting a pain that...never came, only a whoosh of air passing over his scrunched up face.

In fact, there was an abrupt and sudden silence that filled the place, ominous and dark and when Bilbo opened his eyes he gasped, taking a step back for a moment to see the plate a mere inch away from his face and a familar looking hand holding the edge of it in her tight grip.

Nymeria slowly stepped out of the shadows, causing the hobbit to breath out a sigh of relief as she lowered the object into his waiting hands, her eyes flickering over his face, searching for any sign of ill treatment as she ignored the other occupants of the room, aware she was surrounded by their cautious eyes from the dining room and hallway.

She wasn't much larger than the dwarves, only standing a head or two taller than most, and there were no weapons attached to her, nothing to explain the sudden intimidation they all felt.

The moment that the strange girl had stepped into view, it was like all the life that had previously been there before had suddenly been sucked out of the room, the atmosphere becoming colder and dark, hairs standing on edge and shivers dancing up spines as she simply stood there and finally looked at them all with her dangerous gaze.

"I'm only going to ask this _**once**_. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"We were invited." A dwarf with a strange hat resting atop his head called out from his seat at the dinner table, only to shy away when she looked over at him. Everything about the girl seemed _wrong_. She stepped further into the light, the shadows stretching over her expressionless face as she glared at him scrutinizingly with _**glowing**_ eyes. "By _who_?"

"That would be I."

A deep and baritone voice suddenly broke through the tension, as a tall older looking fellow walking into her line of view, ducking under the chandelier that hung by overhead, his long grey hair tumbling over his shoulders in ratty waves, dark robes swallowing the glow of the lights. Nymeria stared at him for a moment, before her eyes were dragged over to Bilbo who came out from behind him, pointing at the wizard with wild gestures, mouthing ' _that's him.'_ Over and over again.

The faè snapped her gaze back up to look at him with a vicious snarl, remembering the hobbits fear this morning that she regrettably hadn't believed. "You? The wizard that scared him half to death?"

"I assure you it wasn't my intention." He replied calmly, trying not to escalate her anger as he recognised the species in front of him, however rare they may be. She may be missing certain features, arguably the most important ones, but nothing could mistake the raw magic rolling off of her in thunderous _waves_ , intimidating and filled with dangerous warning that only _he_ was able to see, while the others only felt its effects.

"I'd hope not." She snapped her teeth, baring them like some sort of feral animal, and she was idly aware of the way hands had inched towards weapons, suffocating them in her rage as she desperately tried to keep her own hands steady as they shook with trauma induced tremors. Nymeria really hoped that one of these maggots infesting her home would tell her just what in the hell was going on, because it truly, _truly_ was only a matter of time before she snapped and started _ripping_ out **throats**.

However, before anything could come of the tensions wound tight across the rooms, there was a knock at the door. A simple, somewhat heavy handed knock, that broke through the silence like a whip through air as everyone slowly turned to look.

"He's here." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You mock our pain."

**Nymeria didn't trust many creatures, she didn't trust elves, didn't trust the race of men, didn't really trust any other hobbits and most certainly didn't trust the tall wizard moving off** **towards** the door. The young faè didn't trust anyone in the room apart from Bilbo and yes, that included herself as she pulled the small halfling behind her, upper lip curling and her hackles raised, awaiting whatever was outside with a pinch of salt and already having a suspicion of what it was.

The door slowly opened, everyone waiting with bated breath, and sure enough, there was another dwarf on the other side of it, set apart by being rather tall compared to the others around them, perhaps reaching her chin or nose if he were to stand next to her, and his dark stormy eyes set on the wizard in front of him, ignoring the occupants into the home as he stepped inside. _Without_ an invitation as he trudged his mud defiled boot across the wood of the floor, this time she openly snarled. She'd forgotten just how disrespectful _dwarves_ could be. 

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." His low voice rang out though the silence, baritone and rough, filling the already tense space as he strolled inside, eyes flickering from place to place as he took in his surroundings, nodding towards his fellow dwarves that stood to the side, acknowledging their inconspicuous bows that Nymeria had caught with narrowed eyes, watching the way he paused when he glanced towards her. 

"I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door." He said, keeping his front facing the almost feral looking girl, feeling a certain kind of pull in his gut that told him not to turn his back on her, lest he wanted to be trying to dislodge her in the next moment. Suddenly, a small head popped from around her back, their eyes wide as they scrambled forwards, missing the girl's hand as she tried to pull him back. 

"Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" 

" _That's_ your problem with all of this?" Nymeria snapped, stepping towards him as if to pull him back but deciding against it, keeping her hostile gaze trained on everyone and everything in the home, magic churning unpleasantly under her skin, feeling her fear and anxiety and waiting for the moment to latch out with its cruel chaos, noticing the way that the majority of their hands hadn't strayed away from their weapons due to that very reason. 

"There is a mark, I've put it there myself." Gandalf told the hobbit, shutting the door behind him and giving Bilbo a gentle and somewhat reassuring look, trying his best to keep the peace. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo turned to look at the dwarf properly, his brows still furrowed in confusion but not feeling intimidated in the slightest, not with Nymeria in his eyeline anyway, as the larger being stepped towards him, looking down his nose in every sense of the word. "So, this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" He muttered, more to himself than anyone else as Thorin began to circle him, quite like a predator does a prey, sizing the hobbit up with his eyes. Nymeria, keeping herself to the shadows, felt her upper lip curl once again, her hand pressed against the wall and feeling it start to _crack_ and crumble between her finger tips. 

"Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know. But I fail to see why that's relevant." Nymeria resisted the urge to slap her hand against her forehead, looking between the two with narrows eyes, ignoring every instinct in her body that told her to move into a crouch and protect what was hers, like the creatures of the Moors had taught her to do all those years ago.

"I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin chuckled, looking over at the other dwarves who shared in his laughter, loud and thunderous with their shoulders shaking and bellies warm, uncaring of Bilbo's affronted look at the offensive remarks, or the way Gandalf had shifted uneasily, feeling the swell of magic gather behind them all as the faè slowly began to move closer. 

"He doesn't _need_ a weapon."

A voice broke through the laughter, as she took the last step across the floor to stand behind the hobbit, Thorin finally turned his gaze to the woman who'd been silent throughout the exchange, her gaze dark and stormy as she looked him dead in the eye without any sign of respect or care. 

"What?"

"The _grocer_. He doesn't need a weapon." She reinstated, body relaxed and confidence, almost uncomfortably so and knowing that every eye in the home were trained towards her. _Good_ , that would make things alot more easier to get her point across. 

"And why is that."

"Because...he has **me**." A red mist suddenly began to surround her fingers, burning hot and boiling like the blood pumping through her veins, and the dwarves around her only had time to blink at the strange and ominous oddity, before that very same mist lashed out, spreading throughout the room, many lunged for their weapons in a moment of panic as their sight evaporated, Thorin one of them, but just as his fingers brushed over the handle, his sword was in the air, and pointed at his throat, and a quick, panicked glance around the room told him that everyone was sharing the same fate. 

Each and every one of their weapons were floating, the red glow of her chaos holding them in it's dark grip, aimed at every individual with a certain threat as she slowly trailed her gaze around the room, ignoring Bilbo's awed gasp as she focused hard, already feeling the draining pull of her own magic tearing her down. 

"Now, someone should tell me what's going on, or heads...are going to start _**rolling**_." 

She felt more than heard movement coming from behind her, and a quick glance to the mirror beside her showed her just what was about to happen, as a dwarf with long golden hair let out a bellow, ignoring the panicked cries of 'Fili!' As he threw himself into the air to tackle her, wishing to protect the others by lunging for her open back, only to feel the girls cold hand wrap around his throat and she twirled around and forced him to crash into the floor below, his very breath leaving his lungs in a heaved pant as he looked up, taking the snarling teeth and glowing eyes of something that _obviously_ wasn't as human as they'd thought. 

"So unwise." She growled dangerously, but just as she lifted her free hand, red glowing around it as she braced herself to shove it into his chest and burn him from the inside out, the wizards staff came _crushing_ down against her stomach, sending her soaring back into the wall behind her as his magic clashed with her darkness, the mist that had surrounded the weapons disappearing and dropping to the floor, clattering sharply. 

"Nymeria!" Bilbo called out worridly, instantly crossing the space and rushing to her side, hands held out in front of him and hovering them over her body as her eyes snapped open and glared towards the long-haired man who stared back at her frustratingly calm, as he laid a hand on Thorin's shoulder who'd tried to lunge forward towards her, stopping him in his tracks.

"It seems I may of made a miscalculation, Thorin. There will be fourteen joining us on our journey, not including ourselves of course. For some reason I had thought Bilbo Baggins here...would of been _alone_."

"You've got to be joking!" A dark-haired dwarf yelled, strangely lacking the usual features that were to be associated with his kind, helping his brother onto his feet who was rubbing his throat painfully, looking rather pink in the face and bruised around the neck as he kept his bright blue eyes on the woman who had bested them with ease.

"She just tried to kill Fili!"

There was shouts of agreements from the rest, each of their gazes angry and their hands now holding their swords and axes close to their chests, lest the strange creature grimacing against the floor used them in her own attack once more, her back arched off the wall as she tried to suck in calming breaths, the heaving pain of her re-opened scars striking her magic useless. She tried to move once again but Bilbo hushed her gently, trying to keep himself in front of her just in case they decided to attack.

"She thought you were making a threat towards Mr. Baggins here, she only reacted in kind." Gandalf murmured, watching with a asserting eye as the hobbit helped her off of the floor, brushing off the dust attached to her body and felt his face drop in shock as Bilbo strolled around to her back and started doing the same. It seems their bond went deeper than he _ever_ thought if the faè allowed him near her back without as little as a flinch.

"I'm sorry about Nymeria, she's just rather protective you see, I'm sure this can all be settled with a pint of...ale?" Bilbo tried carefully, keeping his small body in front of her as her eyes flickered from place to place, both expecting the worst after a few tense moments of silence, until the room broke out in murmers of agreement and sheathed their weapons, though they all now knew not to turn their backs onto the dangerous woman as the shuffled into the dining room once more.

Nymeria growled quietly, ignoring her hobbits repriminding look as she did so, _dwarves._ It just had to be _**dwarves.**_  
________________________________________________

The home was brimmed with tension, churning and dark and so thick that it could be cut through with a knife as everyone in the home kept their eyes open, backs guarded, watching the strangers every move while also trying to listen in on their kings words, keeping their hands hovering over their sides where their weapons lay as they talked amongst themselves in low voices that she didn't care to pick up on.

The faè had sat herself down in the kitchen away from the disruptive beings, making sure she was alone and out of view from prying eyes as she applied a soothing salve to the skin of her back, hissing when her fingers caught the edge of her broken skin, the never-healing scabs on her back re-opened from her back hitting off of the corner of the home. A muffled curse left her lips, eyes clenched shut as she finished applying the last of it, her magic clashing with the thunderous pain that had been soothed down and fighting to get back control.

Nymeria sat there for a few moments, catching her bearings before standing slowly on shaking legs, pushing her prejudice and trauma to the back of her mind once more as she stalked into the dining room, keeping her face blank and closed off to conceal her emotions and pretending to ignore the way they'd all tensed at her appearance, the blonde that she'd attacked seemed to be the only one who didn't, though she did notice his blue eyes narrow.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." A dwarf growled, ignoring her presence and she could only blink, trying not to look as confused as she felt, eyes flickering for any sort of clue and realising that she probably should of been listening a _little_ closer to the conversation from the next room over.

However, it was Bilbo that seemingly finally wanted answers as he walked over and stepped into the room once more, catching eyes with Nymeria who nodded at him gently. "Uh...what beast?"

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals." The dwarf with the strange hat from before stated helpfully, and she idly remembered him being referred to as Bofur or something, putting his pipe back into his mouth after he finished, the atmosphere around them becoming down trodden and tense once again.

That was, of course, until Nymeria let a cruel giggle slip through her lips, causing heads to snap towards the dangerous faè.

"A dragon? You're talking about a dragon?" She finally broke her silence, stalking closer into the room with a small smirk curling over her lips that had tempers flaring as she looked Thorin dead in the eye without a care, looking as though she was going to start _really_ laughing at any mere moment, uncaring of their plight.

"Aye lass, an evil beast it is too." Bofur told her non-repulsed, trying to be kind to the strange girl as she walked past the wall behind her, dragging her shaking fingers across the mantle piece nonchalantly, aware on the eyes on her, most specifically Bilbo's as he tried to warn her to be careful with her taunted words, but when had she ever listened to her small halfling?

"No creature on this earth is evil for the sake of being evil, dwarf."

"It wreaked havoc and destruction on our homeland. It tore apart families, burned our structures to the ground and rendered us without our home. How can you say that _that_ beast is not evil?" A bald dwarf growled dangerously, slamming his fist onto the wood of the table and ignoring the hobbits indignant squeak of protest as he did so, he'd only just had that re-painted too.

"Because dragons do what dragons do. They hunt for gold just as hobbits eat, wizards cast their spells, elves sing and dwarves **_greed_**." She turned slowly and looked them all dead in the eyes, mind flashing back to whispered promises, fake kindness and the haunting and horrendous pain of her tortured soul being torn apart from its **_seams_**.

"You mock our pain." Thorin growled, voice a low and rough snarl as he glared towards her threateningly, no seeing or perhaps not caring for the way Gandalf squirmed around in his seat, feeling the chaos, the rage that burned underneath her skin like it was his own. Such tremendous power pushed into one being that couldn't of been born to last.

" ** _Life is pain._** Anyone that saying different is either a fool or a liar." She spat, slamming her hands against the table, eyes glowing through the darkness of the room ominously.

"And what would you know of pain, witch?" Thorin scoffed, rising from his seat to glare at her, taking in the fullness of her cheeks that would of never gone hungry, the smoothness of her skin unmarred from scars or wounds, no missing limbs or bent bones, no sign of anything of the sort to allude to any sort of trauma.

Nymeria could see the way they all looked at her, knew what they were all thinking, that she had some form of sheltered or pampered life and tried desperately to keep the disbelieving laugh that wanted to escape concealed in her trembling lips. She could relate alot to these dwarves, forced out of her home and quite possibly torn apart from a family she'd never met, scarred, abandoned, and constantly hanging in the balance between life and death.

But, what she found rather ironic, was that the same creatures that looked at her with such scorn now...were the same race of vile monster that had taken all those things and **_more_** away from her. But, instead of voicing that weakness, she instead laughed numbly and glared at him with the same haunted glint in her eye. "More than you'd **_ever_** imagine."

"Nymeria! Can you put the _flowers_ into the kitchen please!" Bilbo shouted, causing heads to snap back towards him as if forgetting he was there but he didn't even spare them a second glance, keeping his eye on his friend and hoping she'd take him up on that offer to leave the mounting tension of the room and calm herself. He knew that she was strong, that she was _powerful_ , but that didn't mean she couldn't be overpowered by the angry company they currently kept.

She stared at him for a few moments, like the others shocked at the abrupt order, before visibly deflating when she looked into his anxious eyes, and deciding it was better to take the out while she still could. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment."

The faè strolled past him, pressing a lingering hand on his shoulder to comfort him, walking into her bedroom and slamming it shut behind her, the pressure on her chest lifting as she physically gasped for breath, eyes clenching shut and hands shaking as she tried to calm her nerves. She'd barely been back into the room for five minutes before she'd wanted to lash for their throats, it didn't matter who they were, everytime she glanced at them, their image always took a different and hauntingly _familar_ twist, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

They weren't **_him_** , but apparently, she wasn't half as over her trauma as she thought she was.

She allowed herself a few moments to calm her racing heart once again, fingers glowing with a certain kind of threat as she walked across her room and picked up the basket of flowers with shaky hands and began to sort through them, grabbing a near-by jar and stuffing them inside while focusing heavily on her bond with Bilbo for any sign of distress, and unknowing if she was thankful or put-out when she couldn't find anything of the sort, and when she was done, Nymeria walked into the kitchen silently, pushing the jars onto their respective shelves, and then, just as silent, made herself a cup of water to steady her nerves.

However, she _did_ come back into the room finally, tension still wound tight in her muscles but refusing to let her anger get the best of her, just in time to find Bilbo holding a rather large piece of parchment in his hands, eyes flickering down the page with his face strangely pale and muttering under his breath almost anxiously. The faè frowned, slowly stalking closer and uncaring of the way their present company had turned to look at her.

"Bilbo? What's that?"

"That would be your contact." The old wizard stated, nodding towards her kindly as she stepped into the hallway, coming up just to stand behind her halfling friend as he continued to read, not even noticing her presence and she took a quick glance as it from over his shoulder.

"Our contract? Contact for what?"

"Well lass, we're in need of a burglar, and Gandalf has assured us that Mr. Baggins here, happens to be perfect for the job." Bofur said joyfully, gesturing towards the hobbit with a certain kind of glee that left her feeling rather confused indeed. Her Bilbo? A burglar? Were they talking about the same creature?

"And has Bilbo accepted the offer?" She asked with narrowed eyes, her jaw tense and hands clenching into fists at her side, hoping and praying to whatever sort of god there was that he hadn't, that he wouldn't subject the both of them to whatever horrors lay in front of them. Well, she couldn't say that she'd mind the orcs, perhaps even the dragon, but the thought of being surrounded by dwarves for how many months filled her with unease.

"He's about too!" Bofur said, tone cheerful and obviously unaware that that was the _last_ thing she wanted to hear as she openly snarled, crossing her arms over her chest with a stubborn huff.

"What about you?" A voice suddenly asked, deep but with a certain tone that the others lacked, and Nymeria's dark eyes flickered towards the golden haired dwarf who held her gaze stubbornly, not intimated in the slightest of the glowing orbs glaring back at him, which, she almost found impressive in all honesty...not many had the balls to be so open when they caught a glimpse of her snarling teeth and wolf-like stare that demanded submission.

"What about me?"

"Will you be joining us on our journey?" Gandalf broke the contact, staring down at the girl who blinked back at him in response, shocked that _that_ was even a question, however, her answer was quickly interrupted by a wide-eyed Bilbo. "Uh...'The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited _to...lacerations_. Evisceration."

" ** _Incineration_**?" Bilbo said, making sure he'd actually read that right as he held the parchment away from him, as if the farther it was away the less danger he was in, face somehow paling even _further_ as he stared at them with wide-eyes. Bofur didn't seem to care in the slightest that the hobbit looked like he was on the verge on a meltdown. "Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

"Bilbo, sit down before you pass out."

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You alright, laddie?"

"I just- I feel a bit faint."

"That's because you _**are**_ going to faint."

"Think furnace, with wings."

"I...I...I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

"Would you _shut_ your mouth."

"Nope." The hobbits eyes rolled to the back of his head, slumping backwards and about to hit the floor until Nymeria managed to lunge forward, hooking her hands under his armpits and grunting as she took his surprisingly heavy weight, holding him up and close to her chest as she swirled her head to give the dwarf a dangerous look, who, at least had the decency to look rather sheepish, she didn't even bother trying to conceal the roll of her eyes.

 _ **Dwarves.**_  
_________________________________________________

"I'll be alright. Just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo muttered, cheeks stained a dark pink from embarrassment more than anything else as Nymeria handed him a cup of tea, one whiff of the steam assuring him that she'd planted a few petals of the violet orchard to help with the constant bile scratching against his throat. He gave the girl a gentle smile as she sat against the arm of his chair, hovering over him nonchalantly.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long." Gandalf said after a few moments of observing the strange duo with a curious glint in his old eyes, chuckling in amusement as their attention snapped over to him, as if too caught up in their gentle affection to remember he'd been standing in front of them, before he became serious once more, staring at Bilbo in disappointed fashion.

"Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves, in the woods. He'd stay out late, come home, after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would've liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." The old wizard said wisely, ignoring Bilbo's indignant scoff.

Nymeria quirked a single brow as she looked down at the hobbit, eyes shining with soft amusement as she pressed her thigh into his shoulder, almost causing him to spill his tea as she smirked. "You never told me that you were such a troublesome little fellow, Bilbo."

"It was many years ago. I'm not that hobbit anymore." He replied, turning his nose up as he took a sip of his tea, replying to both girl and wizard with the hopes of shutting the both of them up.

"And yet a faè sits by your arm chair, bringing you tea like a common housewife." Gandalf stated in disbelief though not unkindly, obviously not believing the hobbit in the slightest. Their heads snapped towards him once more in surprise, though Nymeia had a guarded look in her dark eyes that told him to answer the next question _carefully_ as her hand curled around the corner of the armchair.

"You know what I am?"

The old wizard nodded slowly, knowing from the moment she'd stepped into view what she was, because fundamentally, magic would **_always_** recognize magic, no matter how powerful or faint, each being radiated their own certain kind of aura...and young Nymeria had said magic rolling off of her in _dangerous_ waves. "Yes...and I know that a faè's loyalty and, most importantly their trust is a _**binding**_ thing, so, I can only wonder what _you_ have done Mr. Baggins to obtain it."

"That is between Nymeria and I." Bilbo murmured, sharing a look with the girl who nodded her thanks, dark gaze training back onto Gandalf as if to dare him to try and say anything else m, but the wizard only nodded.

"I see."

"Look. I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins, of Bag End!" The hobbit stated firmly, gesturing around to show that this was his home, that it had all of his homely items into it, that he was no longer and adventurous being, nor did he want to be. Gandalf frowned, and stared at him in disappointment. " ** _You_** are also a Took. Did you know that your great, great, great, great uncle Bullroarer Took, was so _large_ he could ride a real horse?"

"A strange accomplishment."

"Hush Nymeria."

"Yes, well he could! In the battle of Greenfields, he charged the goblin ranks he swung his club so hard, it knocked the goblin king’s head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle as won, and the game of golf invented at the same time." The old wizard described, the magic of his words drawing the faè in while Bilbo frowned in confusion, if he recalled, the story went alot differently than that.

"You never told me that either." Nymeria said, looking down at him with that same damned quirked brow as he huffed under his breath, staring at Gandalf pointedly. "Well, yes, that's because I do believe he's just made that up."

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You’ll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." He murmured, not denying the claim in the slightest as he finally sat down in front of the strange duo, looking at the earnestly. It was Bilbo who huffed out a laugh, staring off to the side before slowly dragging his gaze back to meet the wizards.

"Can you promise that I will come back? Can you promise that we both will?"

Gandalf only hesitated for a moment, averting his eyes from faè to hobbit and knowing that the truth would always be better than any lie or false hope. "No. And if you do, you’ll not be the same."

"That’s what I thought." Bilbo sighed, almost regrettably as he placed his cup and saucer to the small table beside him and stood up, looking at the old wizard apologetically, aware of Nymeria looking up at him with a careful look in her eye. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can’t sign this. You’ve got the wrong hobbit."

And then with one last look at Nymeria he left the room, avoiding looking at the dwarves disappointed looks...or worse their _knowing_ looks as he hobbled over to his bedroom, door shutting behind him with a gentle click that assured the end of the discussion. Gandalf sighed softly, and, already knowing his answer, slowly turned his head to look up at the faè questioningly. "I can only assume that you won't be joining us either?"

Nymeria didn't have much change of expression as she stood, brushing off the invisible dust from her clothes and swallowing down the relief she felt at not being _trapped_ with the dwarves for company for whoever knows _how_ long on a journey they may not come back from. But, strangely enough, with that relief...there also came pity, or most accurately empathy and she bowed her head to the wizard.

"Where the hobbit goes, I go I'm afraid. You won't ever find one without the other until my dept in repaid."

"And that's why you've stayed with him for so long...a dept?" Gandalf questioned, wanting to know more and taking everything she'd give him. It was rare to see a faè have such attachments, to act so animated, so driven by emotions to the point it was almost human and still have such power at their disposal, but, yet again, he'd never met another faè with their magic so... _ **dark**_.

"It started like that yes, but now, well, now it's rather hard to picture a life without the over-bearing halfling." Nymeria said fondly, an unconscious smile stretching over her face, showcasing the beautiful features she hid behind with wild hair and wilder eyes, before she turned her head and stared at the wizard, an unfortunate sigh slipping through her lips. "However, I wouldn't count us out just yet."

She left the room, eyebrows furrowed and eyes staring at the floor as she walked along, not truly looking where she was going and crashing into a body that almost knocked the unsuspecting faè off of her feet and onto the ground below. Nymeria let a gasp slip through her lips, eyes wide and bracing impact only to feel two rather rough and strong hands catch her just under her armpits and haul her up with a nonchalant ease.

"Careful Ori, you almost knocked the lass off her feet." The voice scolded, familiar and low and she spun around on her feet to find the golden haired dwarf staring up at her, coming up to perhaps an inch or two onto her shoulder, and a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips that had his braided moustache twitching.

"I'm s-so sorry, miss." Ori said, eyes wide like a frightened mouse, and then scurrying away quickly when she turned her unintentional dark gaze upon him, going over to the comfort of his fellow dwarves. That _girl_ was truly _terrifying._

Nymeria glared back towards Fili, idly remembering the name being shouted as she was about to slaughter him, before her eyes glanced down to find his hands lingering against her forearms as if to steady her, the calloused palm of his hands seeping warmth into her cool skin. She quickly snatched her arms back with a vicious snarl. "Hands off or else I'll _tear_ them off."

The dwarf held said hands up into the air peacefully, eyes not looking _nearly_ have as cautious as he watched her, trying desperately to hold the smile she could see him desperately trying to hide. "I was just trying to hel-"

"I don't _need_ your help, dwarf. Nor do I want it." She snapped, before twirling around, hair slapping against his face and stalked away, leaving him standing in the hallway with a certain look in his eye that no one could ever hope to decipher. "Aye, I figured as much."

Nymeria came to a stop just outside of her hobbits bedroom and sighed softly, feeling his sadness as if it were her own as she lifted her hand and placed a gentle and familar knock onto the door before opening it, finding Bilbo sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, though he quickly looked up at the sound of his door opening, visibly deflating in relief when he noticed who it was.

"Are you going with them?"

"And leave you here to the vile company of the Sackville-baggins? Just what do you take me for." The faè chuckled, strolling towards him and sitting next to him on the comfy bed, knocking his leg with her own as she tried to cheer him up, hating the guilt shining in his usually vibrant eyes as he heaved a heavy sigh, staring ahead of him mournfully. "I want to help them, truly, I do but you heard them, I might not come back."

"Yes, you might not come back, or you might come home a different hobbit entirely. Perhaps you might even lose your appetite, perish the thought." Nymeria gasped tauntingly, but, upon seeing no reaction felt herself frown, and then slowly reached across the small space to hold Bilbo's shoulder, forcing him to meet her eyes as she said her piece. "If you help them, or if you don't, it makes no difference to me, but will you be able to rest not knowing? I know you Bilbo Baggins. I've seen your heart and it is kind, and rare and _**thrumming**_ with the need for adventure."

Bilbo shook his head, laughing in disbelief. "There must be someone better equipped, better skilled, just better in general!"

Nymeria refused to hear such poppycock, and she rose from her feet and squatted down in front of him, eyes dark and tone firm. "You found a stranger dying on the outskirts of your shire, not _knowing_ what trouble they might be in, or get you in and you saved them anyway. You _**saved**_ me. You gave me a home, for no other reason except fondness, you've fed me and cared for me as if I was from your own nest- I mean your own kin. There is _**no one**_ in the whole of middle-earth better than you Bilbo Baggins."

"You really think that?" He whispered in shock, because yes, while he knew the faè cared for him in her own special way, she'd never been so verbal about her affections, and the way she seen him, well, it was nothing short of _heroic_. "I **_know_** that. Now, get under your blankets and go to sleep. You look like you need it."

He found himself doing as she said, eyelids fluttering without his permission as she helped tuck him in like he was a child, the roles very much reversed due to the countless times he'd had to do the same, especially after whatever nightmare had plagued her the night before, feeling the gentle caress of sleep begin to seep into his bones. "I still don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out in the morning." Nymeria said gently, brushing a stray curl out of his face as she slumped down on the wall next to him, not wanting to leave the hobbit in his time of need. "Together?"

"Until the very end, my dear hobbit." 


End file.
